Changing Rooms
by honeycakehorse
Summary: Harry loves being the last in the Quidditch showers. Underage ! Harry, Oliver


Rating: R

Pairing: Harry/Oliver, but not really

Warning: voyeurism, underage (Harry is 13)

Challenge: hunkwarts #1: Strapping Lads of Quidditch

**Changing Rooms**

Harry liked being the last in the changing rooms. He always made sure to stay behind the others, to dally while undressing, looking like he was going over the game in his mind but actually thinking about something even better than Quidditch.

A few years ago he hadn't thought it possible that there was anything better than the feeling of flying, that was until he had had his first climax.

He grinned mentally at the memory and already shivered in anticipation. It had really been the only good thing happening to him last year. No matter what others had whispered about in the hallways or even told him face to face, when he had been alone behind his curtains, he had been able to just let out all the pent-up anger and embarrassment of the day.

Until today he could just forget about it all and get lost in the sensations his hand could stir up in him. It really had been one of the best things that had ever happened to him.

He finally came out of his thoughts when he noticed that the changing rooms where empty. Now he grinned for real. Time to get to the more interesting stuff.

Casually winding a towel around his hips, he grabbed his soap and made his way to the showers.

As soon as he opened the door, steam came billowing out at him, making his glasses fog up and forcing him to touch the wall in order to find an unoccupied shower head.

He took his glasses off and his unfocused eyes saw several blobs spread around the room, unequal distances between the gleaming flesh, different blobs for the hair colours. There, those two blobs were Fred and George. He could not only recognise them because of their red hair, but also because they occupied two shower heads right next to each other, laughing and joking even while the hot water was streaming around them, steam obscuring them from view.

Harry turned towards the other blob, brown hair clearly visible against the white tiles of the showers and as unobtrusively as possible, Harry walked towards a shower head right next to Oliver.

He set his glasses down on a small board out of reach of the water streams and took his towel off to throw it to the other end of the room. The shower activated when he tapped it with his finger, once, twice for hot, but not scalding water.

He turned his head towards the ceiling, eyes closed, only enjoying the feeling of water beating down over his head for a second. Then he turned around, almost accidentally, looking towards the other occupants of the room. Fred and George were still horsing around, not at all bothered by the picture they presented. Two read blobs floating in mid air, white skin in contrast to it, but almost making it impossible to distinguish them from the tiles.

His unfocused eyes accidentally – more or less at least – landed on Oliver's form next to him, short-sightedness helping him in making out more of him than the twins. Just as it was supposed to be.

He bent down, starting to lather up his legs with the soap, eyes discretely turned towards his team mate, trying to get his fill of looks of those muscled calves, shifting beneath the skin whenever Oliver stretched, up and up to the well-formed thighs, strong from gripping a broom with them and Oliver's personal exercise regimen he had tried to force on the others as well, but hadn't succeeded. Dark hairs covering his legs, getting denser and denser the higher up his gaze lifted.

He almost skipped over Oliver's dick; after all he had one of his won, why should he bother to look at Oliver's? Then the stomach got more interesting. Hair forming a line form his navel downwards, stomach muscles just showing behind the tanned skin, glistering under the water.

He could already feel the effect the sight of those strong upper arms and chest, flat brown nipples and splattering of hair so unlike his own pink nipples and hairless chest. He took in the sight of the broad shoulders, much broader than even the twin's, and turned around only in the last second to hide his state.

Everybody got a stiffy in the shower from time to time of course. Still, he didn't want all of them to know about it. Fred and George had never had that problem. His first year they had been almost constantly hard while cleaning up, at first intimidating him with it, not knowing what had caused that. He had been worried every dick was supposed to be like that all the time, that his was somehow dysfunctional. Until the two had him caught staring and had a little heart to heart with him about the topic.

Normally, he wouldn't have believed anything of the outrageous things they claimed; something that would make you forget there even was Quidditch, something that was supposed to come from the piece of flesh that until then had always only had one function.

In the end he believed them only because Oliver had been close by and he hadn't told the two to stop their teasing, but instead only nodded or snorted from time to time and told them that if they thought it had been bad then, they should wait until they were fifteen and they would know what being really horny meant.

Harry still thought about that time with a smile on his face. It had been the first time he had really felt part of the team, part of something only older students knew about.

Now, he knew of course that the other guys in his year all had discovered the same stuff he had, but at that moment he had felt important.

He looked up at the water, letting it wash away the last traces of soap from his hair and waited with baited breath for the others to go. He could only hear one more shower, so the twins had to have already left. Then the shower next to him was switched off as well. He heard a happy "Bye, Harry!" shouted at him and then the door clicked closed behind Oliver.

Harry leaned his head against the wall and looked down at his hard dick. He didn't know what to do. Either he could toss off here now or he could delay a bit and then make it perhaps even better tonight.

With a mental shrug, he grabbed his dick and started to move. He had the pictures freshly in his head, better not to waste them. And after all, he could still toss off later again.

END


End file.
